MasterPC Ch. 05

"You won't be sorry, Detective. I'll see you at the Red Mug at 1:30."

"Yes. Bye."

The line went dead.

"That could have gone better," David said. "But, what did you expect, applause?"

David got himself back together, went home, took a shower, changed clothes, had some lunch, and prepared for his 1:30 meeting.

As you might expect, Aimee was not only punctual but beautiful. She was tall and brunette with threads of auburn that caught the sun as she stood in the doorway of the Red Mug looking for David. He spotted her, and even though he'd never seen her before, David knew who she had to be -- the badge hanging from a chain around her neck was a giveaway in any event. He gave a little wave and she walked to his table.

David held out his hand.

"David Donaldson," he said, smiling his most charming smile.

"Detective Donovan," Aimee said, all business. She did, however, take David's hand and give it a squeeze.

"Please sit," David said, indicating the chair across from where he'd been sitting while waiting for her arrival. "Can I get you something?"

"Decaf. Cream, one Sweet'n Low."

"Coming right up."

David handled the transaction with the barista smoothly and was soon placing a steaming cup of the local java in front of the skeptical detective.

"Look," David said, "I know you think this is a big waste of time."

She cut him off.

"It is a big waste of time. I've got a crime spree to stop and people to protect. What I don't have is time to sit around with civilians who think they've got the answer to everything."

"Well at least the coffee is good," David said. He was thinking about how much easier this would be if he had used his magic software to create some cooperation.

Aimee took a sip of her coffee.

"True, they do serve good coffee here."

"I'll cut to the chase."

"That'd be refreshing."

"I know that what I'm about to say is going to sound really stupid, but I want you to know that it's all true."

"This oughta be good," Aimee snorted.

David had created a MasterPC ap for his iPhone, bypassing a number of Apple's security protocols to do it. He called it up now.

"I can demonstrate."

"What...are you going to leap a tall building at a single bound?"

"No, I won't. I'll do something else."

David put Aimee's name into the MasterPC's input slot. Her miniature self rotated in front of him. Aimee couldn't see what he was doing, but the next thing she felt was her bra and blouse getting tighter. Her tits were growing -- something they hadn't done since junior high.

"What the fuck!" she hissed.

David reversed the changes and Aimee felt herself getting back to normal.

"What the hell was that? Did you do that?"

"I can't tell you how, but yes, it was me. And I can do lots of other stuff too. That was just a little demonstration -- something to prove that I've got some special capabilities."

Aimee was still a little flustered but she rallied magnificently.

"So you can make my tits bigger. How's that going to help us catch whoever is beating people up?"

"Aimee, you're being obtuse. I've embarrassed you and you were already mad about coming here so you're not thinking this through. I've used my little magic trick to give myself some special abilities; abilities that, in a detective, could help you get this person off the streets. You'll get credit for the collar, and I'll stay in the background -- way in the background. In fact, I don't even want anyone but you and Chief Wiggum to know that we're working together."

"I...I..." Aimee started to speak and stopped.

"You don't know what to say. I know it's a lot. Let me ride along with you tomorrow and I'll show you something that will make it possible for you to solve this case."

"Meet me at the corner of John Avenue and Sixth Street tomorrow morning at 8 o'clock. Don't be late."

"I'll be there."

"Thanks for the coffee."

Aimee got up and walked out of the coffee shop.

"Now I wait. She might go back to the station house and tell Chief Wiggum I'm a nut job and she's not going to work with me, or she'll keep her mouth shut and become a super star detective. I guess I'll just have to wait and see."

David returned to the office, fucked Heather two more times, including once in the ass, talked to a few clients and potential clients and went home for the day, whistling a happy tune. It was good to be David Donaldson.

The next morning, David was waiting with a paper bag of donuts and two cups of steaming hot coffee when Aimee showed up at John and Sixth in an unmarked cruiser (as if you couldn't tell it was a cop car anyway). David got in and Aimee pulled away before he could even buckle his seat belt.

"Good morning," David said, going for friendly and hoping Aimee wouldn't shoot him for his impertinence.

A head bob and a grunt was all he got in return.

"I brought donuts," David said, placing a bag on the seat between them.

"Donuts? Really? You brought donuts? Do I look like someone who eats donuts? Or did you just assume all cops were donut hounds?"

"Well, I like donuts, and these came from Bee's Busy Bakery in Iron River."

"You drove to Iron River for donuts?" Aimee's tone softened a bit. "That's a 45 minute ride each way. You drove an hour and a half for a bag of donuts?"

"Ever had one from Bee's? It was worth the drive. Plain cake donuts are the perfect fuel for crime fighting."

"You read too many Spenser novels. If I eat one of those, it will go straight to my ass. No thanks."

"More for me then," David said, reaching into the bag for one of the brown ovals of delight.

"I brought coffee too," David said, pointing to the pair of paper cups, steam wafting from the lids, in the cup holder on the transmission hump between them. "Cream and two Sweet'n Low, right?"

"Thank you, David. That was thoughtful. Damn those donuts smell good."

"What if I told you I could make adjustments to your metabolism so that you could eat all the donuts you want and never see them on your ass?"

"I'd say you were nuts."

David took out his iPhone and put Aimee's name into the Master PC ap. He typed in a few commands. "There. All done. Have some bear sign and enjoy it without guilt. Have a cheeseburger at lunch. Just don't forget to maintain your workout schedule."

"Is this for real?"

"Remember yesterday in the coffee shop when you felt your breasts get bigger?"

Aimee actually blushed.

"I see you do remember. Well, this is just like that except you won't really notice the change."

"Have you made changes like this to your own body?"

"Oh, yes. You didn't know me a couple of years ago. You'd hardly recognize me. I was a completely different person in a lot of ways. Now, I'm healthy as a horse, have the body of an 18 year old, work out regularly, and I never get sick."

"No kidding. May I ask how you came by these miraculous powers?"

"Yes, you can ask, but I'm not going to tell you the whole story. And, I need you to keep what I do tell you to yourself. What I have is a very powerful source of techno-magic. It would be disastrous if it became general knowledge -- trust me on this. Let's just say that I am an enhanced human being with much faster reflexes, greater strength, and lots more intelligence than the average representative of Homo sapiens."

Aimee gave him a doubtful look.

"Since you've allowed me to help you on this case, I will make that magic accessible to you. If you like, I can give you some upgrades that you'll really enjoy and some that will just come in handy for solving crimes."

Aimee pulled the car over to the curb, put it in park, and shut off the motor.

"Upgrades? What kind of upgrades?"

"Ever have a suspect get away because you weren't fast enough to catch them? Ever wish you were stronger so that you didn't need to worry about going up against the bad guys? Or more agile? Or smarter?"

"You can do all of that with your phone?"

"Well, it's easier on my laptop, but, yes, technically, I can do all of that on my iPhone."

"Where's your laptop?"

"At the office."

"Where's that?"

"It's the old Great Northern building at Belknap and Tower."

Aimee started the Ford POS and pulled away from the curb, made a tire squealing U-turn and headed back to the center of town. Five minutes later she pulled up behind the building where A2Z Consulting had its offices.

"OK. Go do your thing and make me a super cop. I think this is probably bullshit, but what the hell -- nothing I've done so far to try and solve these crimes has worked. I'll admit I'm getting a little desperate."

Aimee hesitated and then added almost in a mumble, "and you might make my tits a little bigger too."

"What are you now, B-cup?"

She gave him an almost shy look, but then said, "Yes."

"What would you like them to be?"

"Anything bigger than C will just be in the way."

"I'll set that up to take place overnight -- that way you won't have to be uncomfortable the rest of the day. You can buy a new bra or two after work."

"Get going. I don't have all day," Detective Donovan said her skepticism still rather obvious.

"Yes, of course, Detective Donovan. No need to wait for me. You'll notice the changes as you go along."

David left the car and walked up to his office. Heather greeted him with a hand full of messages -- he told her to hold onto them for a moment. He walked into his office, woke up his computer, and called up the MasterPC program.

Seconds later, Detective Donovan's form was rotating in front of him on the screen.

"Now, let's see -- what would a crime fighter need?"

David sat for a moment, thinking. Then he began to input a series of commands.

"Intelligence enhancement...check. Strength, agility, and speed upgrades...check. Improved eye sight with extra night vision capability...check. Improved powers of hearing and olfactory reception...check. Observational skills...check. Ability to detect lies...check. That ought to do it for crime fighting skills for now. Oh yeah, C-cup breasts...there...that'll take care of it. By tomorrow morning she'll have a nice rack. She'd better buy some new lingerie on the way home."

David sat before the computer for a few more moments, wrestling with something.

"What the hell," he muttered, and put a few more commands into the MasterPC console.

"There...those ought to make her future life more enjoyable -- her sex life anyway."

He stared at her image rotating on the screen lost in thought. He frowned.

"I hate to do this, but, it just wouldn't do to have anyone trace any of this back to me," David said. A few more commands went into the computer program and then he replaced Aimee's image with Chief Wiggum. He instructed the Chief to forget their conversation about the north end beatings. He shut down MasterPC and then put his computer back to sleep. David put his suit jacket back on and walked out of his office.

"I'll be back in a few minutes, Heather. Have the lube warmed up sweet cheeks, daddy's in the mood for some back door action today," David said as he dashed out the door. He smiled as he heard Heather's squeal of delight -- she loved it in the ass.

After David left the cruiser, Aimee drove back toward the police station. By the time she got there she was feeling odd. For one thing, she had no idea why she had been in the lot behind the Great Northern building when she should have been at the police station, working the case.

"Weird."

Then, there was the bag of donuts and the cup of coffee she hadn't remembered buying.

"This is even weirder. I never buy donuts."

There were only two left anyway. They were both gone by the time she'd covered the six blocks back to the station. She felt different but had no explanation. She had, however, come up with a way to stop the crime spree, and when she thought of it she wondered why it hadn't occurred to her before. Later that day, after she left work, she was surprised to find herself walking out of the local Mall with several bags from her favorite lingerie store. She had no idea why she'd gone there or why she suddenly felt the need to buy a C-cup bra. "I'm a B-cup and have been since puberty. This is weird."

David walked back to Sixth and John, retrieved his car, and went back to the office to resume his work as a consultant. He was working on a new account -- W.E. Coyote -- and he had to develop an approach that would make the CEO want to hire him. He was confident that the string of beatings in the North End would come to a swift and certain end, and that his community had acquired a powerful new weapon against crime. He thought he might even get to score Detective Donovan someday. That would be a real bonus.

When he walked into the office, Heather was not at her desk. David Smiled. He put out the "be back later" sign, locked the outer office door, and sauntered into his private office where, surprise surprise, Heather was waiting, buck naked, on his leather sofa. She was on her knees with her perfect little heart shaped ass up in the air displaying her crotch like a mare in heat. There was a large bottle of Astroglide™ next to her on the sofa. She'd obviously applied quite a bit to her asshole, which now sported a large black butt plug.

"Heather, you beautiful little slut," David said as he dropped his suit jacket on the back of his office chair.

Heather looked back over her shoulder and grinned.

"C'mon Daddy...don't make me wait. I've got the lube all warmed up and I've made myself as ready as I can for your big cock," she said in that little girl voice that drove him wild.

Seconds later David was as naked as Heather. He walked to the couch and picked up the bottle of lube. He poured a copious amount on his cock and used his left hand to spread it around. With his right, he began to play with the butt plug in Heather's ass.

"I think we should get you one with a horse tail or something on it and have you wear it in the office," he said as he worked the large chunk of black rubber in and out of Heather's pliant asshole.

"Ooooooo....Daddy...that would be hot!"

The plug emerged from her rectum with a popping sound, leaving her hole gaped for a moment before it resumed its usual star shape. David's cock was hard and covered with a thin layer of lubricant. He wasted no time on preliminaries, knowing what Heather wanted. He'd broken her anal cherry in that hotel room where he'd first really used her the night she came to apologize. It had become her favorite way to fuck ever since. She was almost as much of an anal slut as Dana DeArmond.

David pressed the head of his cock against the wrinkled rosebud of Heather's ass.

"Oh!" gasped Heather as she felt the tip of his cock touch her tender flesh.

"Push back on it," David commanded.

"Yessssss...." Heather hissed as she pushed her hips back toward him. Little by little the large mushroom head of David's dick spread the well-oiled and well-trained ring of flesh guarding Heather's rectum. Heather groaned continuously as she felt her backside cloven again by David's mighty spear.

"Ahhhhh..." Heather sighed as the head was completely engulfed and she felt the shaft begin to impale her guts.

David always enjoyed this moment as he felt himself drawn into Heather's body, enjoying the constriction of her tight anal ring around the shaft of his cock, the warmth of her belly around him, the slick feeling of the lubricant, the trembling of Heather's body as her pleasure began to ramp up toward what he knew would be a massive orgasm -- he'd wired her for pleasure (hers and his) and he'd done an excellent job.

Heather did not stop pushing until she felt David's balls against her wet, swollen, pussy lips; felt his thighs against her ass cheeks. She knew she had taken him all the way.

"Fuck me Daddy," she whimpered, "fuck Heather's ass."

David grasped Heather's hips in his hands and began to do just that. Heather reached between her legs and began to frig her pussy; rubbing herself vigorously while her boss began sawing his cock in and out of her asshole. She was in bliss. Her pleasure was multiplying exponentially as the speed and vigor of David's strokes increased.

David was giving Heather his entire length on every stroke leaving only the head of his cock in her behind as he pulled back. She was pushing back with as much force as he was using to push forward multiplying the force of his cock's thrusts in and out of her bowels. Sensing her nearness to orgasm, David shortened up his thrusts and increased their speed and force, pounding her ass with his gristly cudgel.

"Oh...my...god," Heather panted in time with his thrusts as she felt the pleasure waves wash over her. She was right on the edge of a massive climax. She pinched her clit between thumb and forefinger and jerked herself over the top as she felt David hilt himself in her again and again.

"Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuccccccccccccckkkkkkkkkkkkkkk!" she screamed, making David grateful once again for the extra sound proofing he'd paid so much money for when the office had been remodeled.

David was glad that her climax had hit while he was buried all the way inside her. Heather's internal muscles clamped down on his cock like a vise; released and clamped again; over and over the cycle repeated as she howled through one climax after another.

David imagined that this is what having your cock stuck into a milking machine might feel like. His pleasure was incredible; it was magnified by Heather's own sexual tsunami. With a grunt, he let his own climax go, his balls releasing a flood of semen into Heather's guts.

Feeling David's cock jerk and spit in her bowels sent Heather into another paroxysm of pleasure. Her contractions milked the last of David's prodigious load of nut sauce from his balls. He stroked himself in and out of Heather's ass a few more times, and then slid his cock all the way out. Heather's asshole gaped; a steady stream of milky fluid oozed from the raw red opening; it drooled down her crack; it slid over the tumescent petals of her pussy where her fingers were still busily stroking the proud flesh of her sexual center.

David slapped Heather on the ass and then went to their shared bathroom to clean up. He showered and redressed himself. Heather did likewise and the pair resumed their work as if nothing had happened; Heather, however, had an inflatable donut on her chair and a smile of immense satisfaction on her face for the rest of the day.

David landed a new account -- W. E. Coyote -- that afternoon, and booked himself a trip to see the new client. Maybe he'd take Heather along. And, maybe, just maybe, the suggestion he'd planted way down deep in Detective Donovan's mind would bear fruit without blowing up in his face. Would he get away with violating his own rules? Had he given into temptation? Would it come back to bite him in the ass?

There was only one way to find out -- he'd just have to await developments. He looked at the calendar. It had been a week since he'd popped one in the missus -- it'd be her turn tonight. Maybe, he thought, it was time to tweak the old lady's libido a bit. No point in her missing out on the pleasure train.

Life was good.